Mission accomplished! The Arc donations, that is. I was called at 9:03 to say the truck would be there within a half-hour. That was good because I had been afraid I'd have to stay in all day to await the call. Being a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist, however, I was sure either I couldn't get the stuff out front by myself, and/or they'd all be stolen before I got back with the next load, and/or there'd be some mix- up with the time, and/or--
But no: I had to load up the cart (which I had given to Suzanne and borrowed back) just twice and got the stuff out front with no prob. The truck came within the time frame, driver was very pleasant, I was given a blank receipt card for IRS purposes, and off went my stuff. When I got home, I took up the bathroom rugs and tub mat, put them in the washer, and while they were being done, dusted and mopped the hard floors.
Hmm...I know why I was being so virtuous about cleaning: to avoid the moment I had to tackle the Blue Shield and BOA stuff. Okay, I forced myself to get to that next. AAGH! I won't even go into it, but after it was over--I hope it's over--I filed a complaint. with Blue Shield, then tackled BOA. I gave up with that, though, and will go there today.
After lunch, I walked to Smart 'n' Final for groceries, so I got three in. It was only 3:00 when I got home, so I played around on the laptop,
Niece Carolyn called and I was delighted to hear that Betty is settling in well at Villa Rivera. The director let her move to her permanent room and out of quarantine a few days early. We talked for some time, then I called Betty. She still has plenty of (nebulous) complaints, but is mostly okay (if anything can be "okay" with this disease). I'll go see her after Easter.
I finished watched The Departed, the totally absorbing 2006 Scorsese movie. Looked up what Ebert (how I miss him!) had to say about it--very astute, as ever--and here's the last paragraph of his review:
"I have often thought that many of Scorsese's critics and admirers do not realize how deeply the Catholic Church of pre-Vatican II could burrow into the subconscious, or in how many ways Scorsese is a Catholic director. This movie is like an examination of conscience, when you stay up all night trying to figure out a way to tell the priest: I know I done wrong, but, oh, Father, what else was I gonna do?"
Oh, yes; Ebert went to parochial school, too, and you never get over it, do you?
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